


black smile.

by deathvalleydriver



Category: Professional Wrestling, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: Best of the Super Juniors 2018: Night 1 Spoilers, M/M, Mind Games, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 06:24:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathvalleydriver/pseuds/deathvalleydriver
Summary: a smile that's burned into your brain, like a lover or your worst enemy.





	black smile.

**Author's Note:**

> it's been so long since i posted, or wrote anything in general. please be gentle on me and my weird brain and it's desires to make this a thing. written right at the start of the tournament, but only finished now because...life.

That Taiji Ishimori was a strange one.

Will just didn't _get_ him. There were a lot of things in New Japan he didn't understand or, to say the least, found strange. Hiromu Takahashi seemed to alternate between hitting on him and treating him like his...pet...cat...every other minute. Zack hung out with guys who ranged from a likely psychopath to a Visual Kei wannabe. Okada was the greatest wrestler Will had ever seen, but he ate streamers and yelled about Scooby-Doo sometimes. But with all of that, Will could at least understand it, somewhat. Okada could do whatever he wanted, no matter how weird, with no fear of being judged _because_ he was so good. Who was Zack to turn down the terrifying and possibly-guilty-of-at-least-one-murder Minoru Suzuki if he had taken a shine to him? And he supposed Hiromu just had a kink involving wanting to fuck anyone he stepped into the ring with. And he liked cats.

But when it came to Taiji Ishimori, Will just didn't get him.

For weeks, those stupid, B-horror grade promotional clips had played. Typical Bullet Club stuff. It didn't worry Will in the slightest, because he had no beef with the Bullet Club, really (besides Marty, but their long-standing rivalry was above smoke and mirrors and hiding behind masks and monikers), and if what he remembered of the original Bone Soldier was accurate, anyone above a Young Lion had little to be concerned about. Then he had his match with KUSHIDA, a great match - Will loved wrestling KUSHIDA. And then Tama Tonga came out. Maybe it should have clicked right at the start of the show, given all the Bullet Club celebrations for their anniversary, and if it hadn't then, it  _really_ should have at that moment, but, _come on_ , he had just had a full-on match with _KUSHIDA_. Tama ran his mouth for a while, blah blah blah, the usual over-dramatic nonsense the Bullet Club spewed, and the story ended just as everyone, by that point, had probably predicted it would: Taiji appeared and beat him into the canvas, and Tama gloated and showed off the Bullet Club's latest acquisition, the brand new and improved Bone Soldier, to the world. All while Will lay there, ears ringing, head spinning, lungs and ribs and back and _everything_ hurting, his brain piecing together just enough snippets to get the gist of what he was saying.

It made his head ache just to remember. It all played back like a blur that didn't make sense, but at the same time, was burned into his brain with a clarity that was  _painful_. Scenes that he couldn't get out of his memory. Taiji's grin, blackened by the mouthguard, his wild stare, but not twitchy, unpredictable wild, not like Hiromu, more perfectly controlled, which made Will's skin crawl even more. A stare, a grin Will had been forced to face once again in the ring for the first round of the Super Juniors tournament. And, unfortunately for him, even in spite of his attempts to prepare himself for it, it hadn't got any less unsettling.

And it was because of that - or, so Will liked to believe - that Taiji had beat him. Clean. In the ring. In an actual match. In the main event of the first night, of Will's first match in this year's tournament...

Which was just great, wasn't it? Way to establish dominance, or whatever the hell it was Tanahashi and Nagata went on about in their motivational speeches to the Young Boys. Way to fucking go.

Will didn't mean to let out an audible groan as he pressed his forehead deeper into the palms of his hands, but did anyway and felt a twinge of embarrassment at how weak his groan sounded to even his own ears. More of a whimper than anything. He had tried to put on a brave face after the match, standing up as straight as he could, trying (and probably failing) to mask the limp from his sciatica, shooting an appreciative grimace back at the sympathetic smiles he received. YOSHI-HASHI clapped him on the shoulder, doing his best to be comforting, Will supposed. He didn't mind Yoshi, but a part of him wished Okada had been there. It was hard to feel like a loser with Okada around. Sometimes Will thought it was Okada himself who put the golden glow into his gear and jackets and belt, and not the other way around.

But in spite of his brave facade, as soon as he had found his own little space away from the watchful eyes of all the others (especially the other Juniors - he was their _champion_ , which meant they were always looking for the little nooks and crannies that were his weaknesses that they could dig their claws into and rip him apart from, he couldn't afford to show them more than he had to), his spine had dissolved and his muscles turned into jelly. His belt, such a precious, stupid little thing, clattered against the linoleum as he dumped it on the floor, sinking down onto a convenient bench against the wall. He guessed this must have been the room they were doing interviews in before - they always packed up early, but left behind stray cords and benches and beer cans. No matter which position he sat in, his bones ached and joints throbbed; he eventually settled for leaning forward, hunched over his knees, elbows propped on thighs and head held, face-down, in his hands. As pathetic as it was, it was fairly representative of how he was feeling.

At least the room was quiet. His head hurt (but when didn't it?). He could hear the muffled, distant voices of the others several rooms away. He knew he would have to go back to them soon or they'd come looking for him themselves, more out of a want to get on the bus and back to their hotels as soon as possible rather than any sort of concern for him and his well-being. He was the holder of the belt they were all competing in this very tournament for a shot at, after all - if he was injured, well, that just made him all the easier for them to beat at Dominion.

Will let out another groan, although this time it came out more frustrated than hurt. In a way, he hated being champion. Someone was always after you - more often than not, _everyone_ was after you.

Somehow, over the noise of his own wallowing in pity for himself and his unfortunate status as champion, he picked up the sound of creaking boots as someone adjusted their weight, and was all of a sudden hyper-aware that he was no longer as alone as he had thought he was.

His head snapped up, the paranoia he always carried around with him somehow activating the last shreds of adrenaline he had left, and he hoped that all the concentration he had to put into trying not to let on that the sudden movement had made his entire world go topsy-turvy came across as stern and tough. It took a moment for his brain to right itself, and then another for his vision to focus on the dark figure stood in front of the doorway Will had come in through.

_Oh, of-fucking-course._

Who else, but Taiji Ishimori.

He stood, non-chalant, with his back pressed against the wood of the door, leaning back on his heels, his arms folded over his chest. His chin was angled up slightly, just so he could look down on Will even more than he already was. Will liked to think he was doing it because he was self-conscious about how much taller than him Will was when they stood face-to-face - just Mister Bone Soldier being cocky. But, then, it was hard to call it cockiness, and for Will to make fun of him at all, when he had backed it all up in the ring minutes before.

The corners of his lips curved upwards into some sort of sick smirk when Will's eyes met his. He wondered how long Taiji had been standing there. Watching him. Will didn't make any further sudden movements himself, but subtly straightened his back and squared his shoulders a little more, eyes remaining on Taiji the whole time, who seemed as though he couldn't be more relaxed.

"What do you want?"

Will wished he had a more intimidating voice, a deep growl that could frighten people off with a single phrase or even a word. Instead, he sounded vaguely pissed off.

Taiji didn't respond, but his previously closed-lipped smile burst into a full-blown grin now, his yet-to-be-removed mouthguard black and glistening where his teeth should have been. Will glanced away before he could think better of it, then forced himself to look back at him. He could swear Taiji's grin had somehow grown even wider in just the few seconds he wasn't watching.

"C'mon, man, don't fuck around with me. You won, yeah, yeah - you here to gloat? Or what? _Say something_."

Again - nothing.

Will didn't even pick up on Taiji moving at first, not until he realized he could hear that same creaking of leather again and noticed Taiji was now steadily straightening up and moving from the door, arms uncrossing and falling to his side. Without any hurry - almost _lazily_ , if it weren't for the look of intent in his eyes that told Will, without a doubt, that every move he made had a purpose - he began to walk across the room towards Will. His slow pace made his odd, unnatural gait even more noticeable, as though he were a machine - or someone programmed to act like one - who hadn't quite figured out how to accurately imitate natural human movement. Between that and his grin, still stuck on his face, almost frozen like that, Will felt his stomach begin to tie itself up, a slight anxiety fluttering up into his chest. He didn't change his position, giving no outward sign to Taiji that he was in any way intimidated, but, as casually as he could, he gave the room they were in a quick once over. There were no other chairs or tables besides the bench he was sat on, that was good - but there was a pile of cords left in the corner to his left, probably from the camera or mic crew, which Will really would have preferred not to have wrapped around his neck any time this evening. Three exits, the one he had entered through in front of him (and behind Taiji), the one behind and to his right which led to the arena, and one across the room to his left, which could have led anywhere, for all he knew.

His eyes landed back on Taiji, who was now only a few paces away, his still-bare chest and torso almost entirely blocking Will's view ahead now.

Taiji stopped, and abruptly his eyes shifted from Will to the floor next to him. Will hesitated for a second, having been caught out by the _'Made you look - Sike!'_ fake-outs one too many times in his life (he could almost hear Marty Scurll's laugh in the back of his head upon remembering), but then let his own gaze follow Taiji's to where his title belt lay in a pile near his feet. As he watched, Taiji stretched out his leg and touched the belt with the tip of his boot, nudging it enough for the metal of the plates folded in on themselves to clink together. Out of protective - and maybe a little paranoid - instinct more than anything, Will lunged out to grab it, scooping it up and pulling it into his chest with a snap.

Taiji pulled his boot back, still without any hurry, and returned to looking at Will with an expression that had an air of amusement about it now, or maybe even curiosity. Both. At least he wasn't grinning anymore, although he had begun taking small steps forward again. The closer he drew, the further away from him Will found himself leaning without even meaning to, until his back was pressed to the wall and Taiji had run out of steps to take. They were quite literally almost toe-to-toe; Will swore he could almost see a self-satisfied quirk in one of Taiji's eyebrows as he looked down at him, with his skin pressed to the cold wall and his belt cradled to his chest, and for some reason, this felt like more of a loss for him and a victory for Taiji than him pinning Will earlier had.

Taiji began to lower himself, bending at the knees, bringing himself to eye-level with Will. If Will had straightened up, he likely would have been slightly taller than him, had some sort of advantage in this situation, but all his willpower to scrape himself off the wall had vanished. He tried to maintain an unyielding expression, something stony, something fierce, something like Okada or Tanahashi or, hell, even Omega, but he could almost feel the appearance chipping away with every movement Taiji made closer to him and every second his eyes remained locked with Will's. Will could see his chest and shoulders rising and falling with every breath he took now - steady and controlled, unlike Will's, which had gotten away on him and become rapid, shallow, giving away his churning emotions and thumping heart far more than his faltering mask of bravado did.

He had become so focused on the movements of his breathing that it took Will a moment to realize that Taiji had reached one of his hands out towards him, fingers moving in towards his title. Will pulled back from him as much as he could, pressing the title tighter to his chest (enough that it would leave an indentation in the skin of his chest, probably, and he was sure _that_ was going to be fun to explain later), but he moved with far too much urgency and he was sure it came across as more of a flinch than an evasive manoeuvre. Taiji definitely raised his eyebrow at him this time - it was a challenge, almost, or him judging Will. _This_ was who held the prestigious IWGP Junior Heavyweight title. _This_ was who Okada had hand-picked to join his stable and, by extension, his company. His hand didn't pull away: instead, it continued to reach forward, Will becoming more and more aware of how he had nowhere left to move, almost feeling claustrophobic, until all of a sudden Taiji stopped just before he made contact. His fingers hovered there, only the smallest of spaces between them and the metal of the belt. Taiji's eyes glinted at him. He was mocking, _teasing_ him.

His hand moved away from the belt and downwards, floating over Will's ribcage and lower torso, fingers always within what felt like a hair's breadth of touching his skin. Will watched his own stomach roll with each heavy breath that he took. It was almost unbearable; his brain was scrambled with conflicting messages fired off from every direction, part of him wanting to get as far away from this... _man_ who was almost inhuman-like with how cool and seemingly disconnected he was, as though he may even _burn_ him on contact, and another part of him just wanting him to _touch_ him already and get it over with. Taiji continued to laugh silently behind his gaze - Will could see the corners of his mouth curling upwards just slightly once again.

Taiji moved somehow even closer in towards him as his hand moved up Will's body again, over his collarbones and neck and to his face. Will could feel his breath on his skin, now, hot and rhythmic. A blush began to creep over his skin as Taiji's thumb and fingers drifted over his eyebrows and the lines of his jaw and cheekbones. Finally, his thumb came to pause over his lips, fingers poised somewhere at his ear. He held it there for a moment that felt like forever - Will knew Taiji must have felt the falter in his breath as he exhaled, in the spill of his own breath over the skin of his thumb. He was sure, in the part of his mind that could still think and wasn't going into shut-down mode due to every conflicting emotion and feeling, that Taiji was going to pull away and leave him like that, frozen in place, waiting on a touch that would never come.

But at last, the very tip of his thumb pressed down, so gentle that Will swore it was painful, on his bottom lip.

Out of instinct - what sort of instinct, he had no clue, but it had to be _something_ \- he closed his eyes and almost leaned into the touch. If his brain had been scrambled before, it was well and truly fried now. His thoughts went haywire, turned into an entirely different language, and it took a few moments for his mind to even begin processing any sort of information again, let alone figure out _what the fuck_ he was doing.

When he did, however, his eyes snapped open again.

Taiji's wide, dark grin and even wider, darker eyes stared back at him.

"Will!"

YOSHI-HASHI's voice (because _of course_ it was YOSHI-HASHI) interrupted the silence and whatever...moment it was that Will and Taiji were having. What sounded like SHO and YOH's voices followed, repeating his name, as distant as the sounds of the rest of the locker room at first, but growing louder as they approached through the same hall Will had entered through. His eyes flickered over Taiji's shoulder to the door for what he could have sworn was just a second, but by the time his gaze shifted back Taiji was already swiftly moving away from him again. He drew his hand from Will's face, and while Will wouldn't have described his hands as being warm, exactly - rather the opposite - the skin of his cheek where they had before been touching it now burned at contact with the air of the room. Taiji was standing again now and had taken a few steps back toward the door on the other side of the room, but seemed to have paused for a moment. He still had his eyes on Will. The voices of his three CHAOS stablemates were getting closer; they seemed to be opening every door and checking every room on their way to him. Taiji was watching Will's face, that same expression of amusement and curiosity on his own. Will had all but given up on appearing 'tough' or unperturbed - his own expression, he was sure, matched the swirling, dizzying vortex of emotions in head, chest, heart, stomach, wherever it was they were made and stored. It was all, mostly, confusion, at Taiji, at himself. A hundred things he wanted to say to him danced on the tip of his tongue, but he still couldn't get the clarity of mind or control of body to form them.

"Taiji-" He finally spat out, but cut himself off. Taiji made no sort of acknowledgement of it at first, leaving Will to wonder for a moment if he had imagined saying it. Maybe he was imagining this whole thing. Then Taiji slowly raised a hand, and in a small, simple gesture, waved at him.

"Will."

In the back of his mind, Will tried to figure out if that was the first time he had heard his voice since he had arrived here. He was pretty sure it was.

"Taiji, wait-"

But by the time Will had managed to spit _that_ out, Taiji had turned on his heel and smoothly, even with that odd, robotic step of his, exited the room. Nothing was left behind to even suggest that he had ever been there, that whatever had happened between them had even happened at all. All that remained was Will, an odd shift - almost a hole, some empty space - in the atmosphere of the room, and the slight burn in his cheeks.

Will's reflex reaction was to get up and follow him, which he very nearly did, but before he could get the message from his brain to the stiff and tired joints of his legs, the other door swung open and YOSHI-HASHI, followed by YOH and SHO, made their not so grand entrance.

"Will!" Yoh and Yoshi exclaimed at the same time. Sho, meanwhile, looked as though he had stopped caring about Will's fate about three doors and three empty rooms ago. Will couldn't say he blamed him.

"Hey, guys." His moment was lost. Will supposed he could still give chase, abandon Yoshi and Yoh and Sho, but something held him back. He didn't want to say it was fear (of what? The unknown? Of what Taiji, or even he, himself, might do?). It was probably his desire to avoid making this night any weirder than it already was. With the three of them now staring at him, Will was very much aware of how somewhat odd he must have appeared to them: sat alone on a bench, his belt clutched to his chest still, his body a little tensed up and his position uncomfortable. It was no wonder that the expressions on all three of their faces were slowly becoming more confused and more concerned.

"Um..." Yoh began.

"Are you okay?" Yoshi asked, almost gently, as though afraid that more intense questioning may set Will off or crack him completely. Slowly, almost muscle by muscle, Will forced himself to relax, or at least not to appear as on edge. He rolled his shoulders back, and un-stuck his belt from his chest, setting it down to one side of him (one hand still retaining it's grip on it, however). He exhaled, and nodded at Yoshi.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He tried what was intended to be a reassuring smile as proof. "I suppose you guys want to go home?"

The trio looked entirely unconvinced by him. They slowly nodded, but the slightly worried expressions didn't change.

"Are you ready?" Yoshi looked him up and down, as though waiting for him to do something extreme: burst into tears, or starting raving and ranting nonsense, or grab a knife out of nowhere and toss it at him, like he assumed Jay White must have done to someone as soon as he stepped through the door fresh off excursion. He had been around for a while - Will wondered how much experience he had with situations like that.

Instead of whatever fit of passion it was that Yoshi was expecting, Will stood up from the bench (slower than he would have liked, his bones feeling as though they were being ground together with the movement), the belt coming with him, of course, and attempted that smile again. "Yeah, I'm good. I'll only take a few minutes to change, so-"

"Good! See you then, Will!" Sho spoke up suddenly, with a sort of urgency. He had already turned from him and was halfway through the doorway by the time Will switched his gaze from Yoshi to look at him. Yoshi and Yoh didn't move to follow, and upon realizing this, Sho paused, but only to lean over and grab Yoh by the crook of his elbow. Yoh didn't put up too much of a fight against Sho tugging him along, out of the room, but he shot one last look back at Will before being dragged away entirely.

"Yes- okay- _Sho-_ see you then, Will!"

Will watched them go with some curiosity. He supposed, again, he couldn't blame Sho - he had good reason not to trust foreigners who were acting strange. He looked back at Yoshi, who hadn't moved.

"Are you _sure_ you're okay?" He repeated. Will rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Don't worry."

"Is it...your loss to Taiji...?"

"No. Ah-" _One-two-three in the ring. The creak of leather boots. Steps towards him. A hand floating across his body. Fingers on his cheek. A black smile._ "-maybe. I don't know. I just...I want to go to bed, now." He laughed, but it sounded uncomfortable, even to him.

Yoshi looked him up and down once more. Probably checking for knives. Will gestured to the door, motioning with his hand: _After you._ It took another few moments of assessment, but finally Yoshi nodded.

"Okay. Hotel, and bed." Yoshi himself laughed for a second this time. It also sounded uncomfortable. He turned from Will (in no big hurry, and still waiting for Will to lose it at any moment, he was sure) and walked off. Will paused a moment before following, some terrible, curious part of him, a dangerous part, a part that took, _'Curiosity killed the cat'_ , as some sort of challenge and not the warning it should be, _that_ part of him tempted to go through the door Taiji had. But he hadn't been lying when he had told Yoshi he wanted his bed and some sleep - his head ached and spun far too much for him to be swayed by an option that, as seductive as it was, likely offered more questions than it did answers.

He instead shrugged his championship onto his shoulder - that hunk of gold that was the catalyst for this whole mess, and for every other mess it seemed Will had gotten himself into for the past few years - and followed Yoshi back out to the locker room, leaving whatever else it was Taiji offered up to his - unfortunately for him, rather active - imagination.

**Author's Note:**

> i may have more junior-related writing on the way, depending on...life. hopefully more writing in general. again, please be gentle. thanks, and double-thanks for reading. :)


End file.
